The Lay of Eldariel
by gypsyinjeans
Summary: The idea was to create a "forgotten" -- or rather purposefully subverted -- lay of Beleriand, in which an original character defies Elven law and wanders Middle-Earth.


This is a different approach to fanfiction for me. I'm not sure if anyone will be interested, or whether gaps in my knowledge of the world of Tolkien will be revealed, but as the story began unfolding in my brain I knew I had to try and share it with others. Let's face it: there just aren't enough warrior Elf-maidens in the history of Middle-earth.

The story will be told at first in prose (to the best of my ability – er, sorry), and then at the end will be the actual ballad – or lay – itself, for those who can stand my poetry.

DISCLAIMER: This story is not meant to infringe on the copyright of The Silmarillion. No money is being made by its circulation on the web. The world of Arda and the characters who dwell there are the creations of J.R.R. Tolkien, with the exceptions of… well… you'll see.

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The Lay of Eldariel

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This is the account of how an Elf-maiden, fair to look upon yet fiery in spirit, left the safety of her people in Doriath to wander alone in the black lands of Nan Dungortheb. What her purpose was has been much debated by the ignoble and concealed from on high, until now I alone of the Elves am left to tell her story. Some will tell you that she drank of the poisoned waters running down from those hills and was driven mad. Others say that she was captured by Orcs, and even corrupted into the service of Morgoth, but it is not so. Long have I endured this talk, but now I would have the truth be known: that she was neither fey, thrall, nor spy, but one of the greatest warriors Beleriand ever knew. I would tell her tale…

The father of Megiloth was neither king nor sage, but a captain in the army of Thingol, ruler of Doriath with Melian the Queen. His name was Galenon, and great was his love for Celebrineldor her mother. When a daughter was born to them the lady was well pleased with her beauty, but the sire of Megiloth was dismayed, for he had thought to raise up a young warrior in the likeness of himself. When they brought her to him he looked upon her clear pale face and silvern hair, thinking them well enough, but her eyes were black as the raven's feather. Galenon was deeply troubled, thinking of the blue eyes of all her forefathers, and wondered whether she should be a sign of some curse of Morgoth. "Whence came this creature?" were his only words.

Counsel was sought of the loremasters of Menegroth, but they could give none that was sure. In the end the wisest of them assured Galenon that no harm would come to him or his daughter if her life were dedicated to the service of the King of Doriath and the Valar. Therefore the father of Megiloth purposed to make a warrior of her after all.

So Megiloth grew to maturity, and as she did, her father taught her all that he knew of warcraft. She learned to shoot with bow and arrow as well as any of her grandsires of old, and wielded a sword with such strength that it amazed her elders to see. A sword Galenon caused to be made for her in the smithies of Menegroth, and the blade was curved slightly, with a ward against Orcs set deep into the metal. This weapon she named Raugrist in the Sindarin tongue, and this signified Demon-cleaver, for with it she meant to do great deeds on the field of battle. It was her custom to walk attired in kirtle and leggings, and those she met who knew her not thought her a young knave at first sight. Nothing did she know of the circumstances of her birth, and merry was her young life, although tinged with coldness as though she was raised in the stead of two lovers' own child.

When the maiden came of age, Galenon gave to her a coat of mail, greaves and vambrace such as the soldiers of Doriath wore in those times, as well as a damascened helm and knife bearing the symbols of their house: three birch leaves entwined about the crescent moon, and a swan. A bow and quiver Megiloth bore already from long years of practice. After swearing lealty to Thingol, she would fain go to war and seek for Morgoth himself, but her father held her back, laughing: "Nay, daughter!" spake he; "Doriath does not join in open battle; not yet, at least. Haply we shall soon see the need to cross the Girdle of Melian, yet for now thou must content thyself as a scout in the service of the king." And so saying, he sent her into the woods to wander unseen. For two years Megiloth journeyed through the regions of Neldoreth, Dimbar, and Brethil, finding no end of petty victories, though not the chance at honor she had hoped for.

One day, the sound of a voice came to Megiloth beneath the trees of the forest. By stealth she came unseen and unheard to the place where the singer lay hid, and was there transfixed by the seeming enchantment of her words. This was Galadhwen, another young maiden of the Sindar, though not inclined to the craft of sword or bow. Instead she was taken to wandering above the caves of Menegroth, for she prized the trees of Middle-earth above any other living thing that was to be found there, be it kelvar or olvar, that which moves or that which takes root in the earth. None of this was known to Megiloth, save only that a fair maiden sat singing at her broidure in the branches of a beech tree. It was a familiar song nonetheless, and the watcher joined in the tune despite herself. This is how it ran in the Common Tongue:

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A Elbereth Gilthoniel!

To see the stars set in her veil!

To sing to her with trembling breath!

Gilthoniel, A! Elbereth!

Who hears all voices east to west,

whose face is lit with Eru's light?

I cry, I cry to Elbereth

in time of day and place of night.

Then did Galadhwen espy her observer, and Megiloth stepped forward under the leaves of the beech tree. No words did they speak, but it was as if the sun had halted in her path through the sky so as to give infinite time to their meeting, and after they had parted the thoughts of each turned to the other. Never before had Galadhwen seen a maiden outfitted as if for war. Thinking the color of her hair akin to that of the stars, she gave Megiloth the name Eldariel.

Thrice more did chance bring them together under the trees. Often they would walk together singing after the fashion of their people, or simply sit and exchange tales. Galadhwen told of her scorn for the youth who was courting her, and Megiloth spoke sadly of her mother and father, between whom she feared love waned on her account. And each time they spoke more boldly to one another; yet neither said what was in her heart, nor did Galadhwen speak aloud the secret name of Eldariel. 

Then came a time when for weeks Galadhwen was nowhere to be found. A dark cloud settled over the mind of Megiloth, and she took no rest. Dark the forest seemed now, and without hope for aid, if the lady was not there. She began to fear that Galadhwen had left Doriath entirely, or that some ill had befallen her. At last, unable to withstand it more, she returned to the Thousand Caves to seek for her lost friend.

In that year Doriath was still as proud and beautiful a kingdom as ever, and would not fall for many a year to come. Menegroth was a glorious city to behold, being paved with stones of many colors and draped with tapestries woven by Melian herself; and the pillars were wrought in the form of great beech-trees, from which hung golden lanterns. Megiloth made her way through the halls and chambers, passing through crowds of fair folk and around silver fountains and marble basins set in the ground. She paid no heed to those who would halt her, returning their questions with her own: "I pray thee, friend, show me where may be the house of the lady Galadhwen. Whither has she gone?" But none could answer. At the last she encountered Daeron the minstrel, chief loremaster of the king.

"Galadhwen is betrothed to my brother Thoronglin," he told her; "and they will marry within the next fortnight." Then Megiloth paled, but spoke not her hurt, and instead beseeched him to guide her to Galadhwen, claiming kinship with her. This Daeron refused to do, suspecting that she concealed the truth of the matter from him, and he left her standing alone.

There was a war within Megiloth then. Grieved she was for the loss of one so dear to her, and she reproached herself for having thought that Galadhwen held her dear in return. Then her grief turned to anger, and she believed that the golden-haired maiden had intended to make a fool of her. At once she turned again within and knew the truth: that neither of them had had the courage to greet their fate openly, and that Galadhwen was to be wed against her will. All this she felt within an instant, and the next moment resolved that she would come to the aid of her whom she loved, no matter what obstacle should be set. For indeed, there was love between them.


End file.
